Artifically Numb
by Trivher
Summary: Carey is trying to numb the pain of a past that still burns.


I am not a big fan of BBQ sauce, not sure why just never cared for it. What are yours thoughts on it? This is a story that I wrote, you could claim that you wrote it but that would be a lie. I do not own the established characters, I just treat them like my puppets. Ask nicely and you can play with them too.

He had been watching her for about an hour sitting with a group of people that seemed to mirror her own age, sipping on various sized drinks laughing up a storm. He thought of going up to her to say hello, but he didn't want to interrupt or become a burden unwanted. She looked the same except for the hair, it was shorter and lighter now, he preferred it the way he had seen it last. It looked and sounded as if she were doing well, certainly better than him.

"Another?" He looks up at the bartender holding the bottle in his hand waiting for the approval to pour and he receives it. This would make his fifth drink since being here he was planning on stopping at seven or perhaps eight. There was nothing he had to do tonight, tomorrow, or hell he had no plans period. Every night without fail he sat at this bar sometimes this stool and sometimes the one on the far end closer to the Television set and would drink until he became artificially numb. It had to be killing his liver and erasing years from his life, but he didn't care.

This evening was different from the rest because she was here. She arrived during his second drink, her arm interlocked with a man in an 80's style denim jacket he had to have been her boyfriend, or perhaps something more. He had no idea that she lived anywhere near here; it's not the type of town famous for random tourists or visitors. Located in the middle of nowhere miles from any larger metropolis areas of interests. He looks up from the drink at the direction of her table to discover she's now gone. He shrugs his shoulders for an opportunity to touch the past has escaped, than realizes he doesn't like the past so it was all for the best.

"Hello Carey," The past hadn't escaped as he previously thought it had. Picking up the glass he takes a giant swig before turning and gathering the courage and preparing a happy story of how he was.

"Hi Molly long time no see," He knew he sounded like a complete and total moron.

"Yes it has been, a little too long," She gives him a quick and awkward hug that he feels obligated to return.

"What are you going here?" He didn't say any reasons not to get right to the point.

"Well I was meeting with some old friends from high school, a walk down memory lane if you'd like to call it that."

"But why here?"

"Because it was the perfect distance away for all of us, so no one person had to travel an excess long amount." Odd reason but a reason just the same he had no grounds to question its origin of truth.

"Makes sense I suppose, besides strolls down memory lane how are you doing?" She tries to smile cheerfully but the edges are formed in sadness and memories she too like him would rather forget than face.

"Some days it's hard and others it's well. I realized one day that life couldn't stop and neither should I; so everyday I force myself to become apart of the world. And what about you Carey how are doing?" He wanted to laugh and say just fine, great in fact! Brag about some accomplishment even it would be a lie.

"The same I guess. But I still have trouble facing the world. I don't see how you could do it Molly," He casts his face down suddenly afraid the tears would start to form again. She lays her hand gently on his shoulder massaging the muscle her way of telling him she didn't have a response just understanding. An understanding of something very few people could share. He wanted her to leave, he wanted her to hold him tighter, he wanted to break every piece of glass; he wanted something he could never have again. He knew she wanted it as well and perhaps more than him, but he won't question her on that. It was a sacred subject almost taboo that didn't leave their lips even when alone. He wasn't sure how long she stood there, or how long he stared at his drink and the bubbles floating within it; he hears feet steps drawing closer followed by a male voice.

"Molly what's going on?" He looks up to see the man that Molly was holding earlier with a confused look directed towards both of them.

"Oh this is Carey, I told you about him before remember?"

"Yes I do remember. How are you Carey?" By the tome of his voice Carey knew that he knew.

"Can't complain and you are?"

"Sorry how rude of me, Carey this is my friend Matt Sawyer." Molly slid into the conversation to inform him. He still wondered if he was more than just a friend but was a afraid to present the news to him, but Carey won't of cared if she was happy someone needed to be.

"Molly it's getting late we need to get going, I mean if everything is okay here, if not take your time." Molly turns to Carey wanting him to provide an answer to Matt's question for her. He smiles and nods to allow her to know it was safe to leave that he would be okay. She gives him another hug this one was long and loving and he had no trouble returning it.

"Please keep in touch Carey and it will be okay, trust me." She whispers in his ear, he nods his response and than just like that they are both walking out the door. He picks up the drink finishing the rest and calls the bartender over for number six. He reaches into his wallet and gently pulls out a folded newspaper article fraying and starting to come undone and reads the headline. **Aug 12th, 2001 a wreck on U.S 271 kills 8. Including the children of 80's rocker Molly Phillips. **He knew the rest of the article by heart and all the victims. Both of his parents, Clu, and family of three that included an infant from the other car. The only reason the death count wasn't 10 was he and Molly had taken the other bus to work on a few new songs. To this day he still can't decide if it were a miracle or a curse. Before the drinks it was a curse but afterwards it's a miracle.


End file.
